In More Than Name
by queensmooting
Summary: For Mikasa, family comes to mean more than blood.


a/n: originally posted on ao3 on february 11, 2016.

* * *

The rifle's heavier than it looks when her father sets it in her arms.

"Shoulders back," he says. His skin is rough but his hands are gentle as he guides her into position.

Mikasa is nine today, staring down the barrel of a gun because she asked for this. She wanted to watch her father hunt, wanted to learn.

"Don't pull the trigger," he says, and taps her chin to make her look up at him.

"You told me that eighty times already," she groans. "Why not? I'll be careful!"

Her father looks at her for a long time, lips pursed in thought. Years later she'll recognize the look in his eyes as something protective. She'll learn to feel it herself, to let it make a home in her gut where her instincts drive her.

"Maybe one day I'll let you," he says. "Not too heavy, is it?"

Mikasa huffs, rolls her shoulder where the butt of the gun rests. "It's fine, Dad. I'm strong as you are."

Her father smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"You have no idea, love."

He will be dead within the season, he and her mother, the day waiting around the corner of winter with a swell of rain and a floral bloom. Mikasa prefers to think of it as the day she met Eren, finds little use in thinking anything else of it. Remembering won't bring them back.

There's a tremble at the end of the gun, or maybe it's just her. The trigger is cold.

* * *

When Mikasa turns ten she doesn't tell the Jaegers.

It's weeks later, when they're celebrating Eren's birthday, that she's asked about her own. Carla claps her hands over her mouth, apologizes for missing it, then comes into Mikasa's room later to hug her and apologize again. She's trying so hard to be a mother. It's a gap in Mikasa's heart with too many cracks to fill, but Carla is trying, so Mikasa forgives her without a thought.

Eren says he's angry at her for keeping secrets as he presents her with a fistful of flowers. Grisha laughs, tells him they're mostly weeds, but Mikasa still keeps them pressed in one of her books. She supposes they're long-lost in the wreckage of Shiganshina now.

There's too much lost to hang onto in her memory, so she lets go, only holds on to what she has. What she has is Eren and Armin, and she'll fight to protect them until her hands are scraped to the bone. Then she'll keep fighting.

* * *

It's hard to know one day from another in the refugee camp, but one evening Eren and Armin each give her half of their bread. The bone-chill of winter has long settled in, and Mikasa figures it's close enough to her birthday. She gives the bread back. Their health is all she can ask for anymore.

* * *

On Mikasa's fourteenth birthday Sasha is acting strange. In itself this isn't new, but now Sasha is avoiding her where she usually doesn't give her room to breathe.

When Mikasa enters the military she doesn't seek out new friendships. She has no space for it, no time when she has to focus all her energy on keeping Eren and Armin alive.

Sasha puts in the effort for her. She's a scared thing who got off on the wrong foot and clings to small gestures of kindness. Mikasa brushes her off in the mess hall and teases her weakness with cold words that are supposed to make her stronger. After a time Mikasa finds she teases Sasha because it's fun, because Sasha gives her arm a shove and sidles closer, blinking wide doe eyes as she begs for an extra scrap of bread.

On her fourteenth birthday Mikasa doesn't see Sasha until she's brushing her teeth before bed. None of the other girls are around. Ymir and Christa are always sneaking off somewhere and Annie is sulking outside with her two friends, abnormally large for teenage boys. Mikasa hasn't bothered to learn any other names, doesn't see any use it in when they could be dead in a few years.

Sasha bursts into the bathroom holding something behind her back.

"Spit that out!" Sasha cries, startling Mikasa into dribbling half her toothpaste down her front.

Mikasa wipes herself down, puts her toothbrush away, and turns to see Sasha holding out a muffin.

"Where–"

"I left the cook alone for a while," Sasha says, grinning. "Made her grateful enough to do me a favor. Happy birthday."

Mikasa takes it, examines it in the dim light from the hall. It's dry, but she can see bits of blueberry and it's more than they ever get in the mess hall.

"How did you know?" Mikasa asks, though halfway through her question she realizes she already knows.

"Eren told me," Sasha says. "Did he do something for you today?"

He apologizes in the dark glow of dawn before training begins, tells her she deserves more, gets grumpy when she says the same of him.

"I told him not to worry about it this year," she says.

"Pft," Sasha says.

Mikasa takes it to bed with her and Sasha goes along. They share a bunk most days now that winter has settled in. Sasha's a cuddler, and Mikasa's surprised to find she likes the closeness.

Sasha's already snuggling into Mikasa's side when she asks, "Can I–"

"Yes, you can have some," Mikasa sighs, and breaks off half the muffin.

Sasha falls asleep with her fingers curled in the collar of Mikasa's pajama shirt. Mikasa once thought she had no more room in her heart, but this girl manage to work her way in nonetheless. She wishes she was the type to tell her.

Not for the first time, she thinks she'd like to be a mother one day.

* * *

Mikasa hardly notices when she turns fifteen, hardly notices the aftermath. Eren is taken from her, then he is taken again. For months she hardly stops moving. Her body aches from the constant weight of her gear but she keeps moving, keeps fighting.

She'd do anything for Eren, anything. But sometimes she remembers being young. Sometimes she remembers whispering to him across their bedroom when they were supposed to be asleep, the walls of Shiganshina sturdy around them. Sometimes she remembers her parents tucking her in when the sky was dark and the world was quiet.

Sometimes she wants to go back.

Mikasa stops hating Levi shortly before finding out they're related, which she supposes is good timing.

For months she thinks nothing of it. Since the day Eren took her home family has meant far more than blood to her, and she suspects it's the same for Levi. They have both found companionship in small circles that don't overlap and it suits them fine.

When she turns sixteen they've just returned from Shiganshina, and the hospital is full of their soldiers. Eren is being treated along with two dozen others, including the commander. For all the injuries there are shockingly few deaths. Things went well for once. She thinks it might be something to celebrate, but she can't shake the pall that hangs over the building.

Mikasa finds Levi sitting on the step outside, polishing one of his blades past a spotless shine. Every muscle in his body is tense but it doesn't make her nervous.

"Did they kick you out, too?" she asks.

Levi turns and glares, but there's a tremble in his hands. He tightens his grip to stop it.

"Everyone's supposed to make it," she says.

"You don't know shit," he says, but there's no bite to his words. He turns back around and wipes his blade down a little slower.

Mikasa sits down beside him, and she can feel him trying to relax. They aren't worrying about the same person but she still understands. Every time she thinks of Eren in there she feels a wave of fear that she swallows back down, a jagged lump.

"It's my birthday," she says.

She isn't sure why she said it. Maybe it's because they both need a thought to distract them. Maybe it's because Eren is hurt, and Sasha is hurt, and Armin is busy at Hange's side. Maybe it's because her mother is dead and her father is dead and even the Jaegers are dead, who never had time to become replacement parents. No one else knows it's the day she was born.

"Happy birthday," he says, matching her flat tone.

They're silent for a minute, then Levi sets down his blade, wipes his hands with the cloth. He doesn't look at her when he speaks.

"We never really talked," he says. "About our name."

Mikasa folds her arms around her knees and waits for him to speak again. She tells herself she doesn't need to know, but the wonder is burning, almost manages to make her forget her worry for Eren.

He huffs through his nose, almost a laugh. "Sorry, but you know everything I do. Wish I could tell you more."

Mikasa isn't surprised, but still finds room for disappointment to sink into her chest. Even after all this time she's looking for pieces of her father, and realizing it makes her feel childish.

"My mother was an Ackerman," he says, picking at a spot on his shirt. "She's the only one I knew, other than you and Kenny."

Mikasa is suddenly curious. She never imagined Levi having a mother, never could imagine him as a child at all, no matter how young he looks.

"You could tell me about her," she says. "If you want."

Levi looks up at her with eyes she's seen before. Mikasa remembers her father on her ninth birthday, trying to decide if she was mature enough to handle wielding life and death.

There's a few seconds of deliberation, then Levi says, "Maybe another time."

He sheathes his blade and stands slowly, bracing a hand against his once-injured leg. His face twitches once, and for the first time Mikasa feels guilty about it.

Levi must see how she reacts, for his pained expression disappears.

"Don't worry about it," he says before she can get a word out. "It's a mistake you won't make again."

He sets off to where the rest of the Corps is making camp, and leaves her wondering about family.

* * *

At dawn Mikasa is allowed back into the hospital. She checks in with Sasha, who's already out of bed and antagonizing Connie about getting her something to drink. Mikasa wonders if any of them have slept.

Eren sits up when she walks in, and he looks slightly less bruised and bloody than last night.

"Hey," he says.

Neither of them know what to say. There are too many deaths and discovered secrets from Shiganshina pressing at their brains. Mikasa's head aches for it.

Eren seems to sense it. He doesn't try getting her to talk, instead shuffles toward the edge of the bed away from Mikasa. He gestures toward the empty spot.

"Me?" she asks, only because her mind is exhausted.

"No, I was offering it to Jean, he's right behind you," Eren says, groggy but rolling his eyes. He's going to be alright.

Mikasa climbs onto the bed next to him, lays on her back. Eren takes an end of her scarf between his fingers, stares at it with a faraway look.

"I wish I had something to give you today," he says after a minute.

Mikasa shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. Just get better, alright? That's what I want you to do for me."

Eren meets her eyes, and he looks unbearably sad. She wises she could chase it away.

"One day," he says. "One day I'll give you everything."

There's a sound at the door and Mikasa looks up to see Armin, looking as exhausted as she feels. He missed a spot of blood on his shirt, but she doesn't want him to worry about that now.

"Sorry, no room," Eren says, and he smiles when Mikasa pinches his elbow to make him scoot over.

Armin collapses at Mikasa's free side without a word. He's always required more encouragement than the other two, so Mikasa places a gentle hand on the back of his head, bringing him to rest on her shoulder. Eren reaches for Armin, interlocks their fingers. Their hands rest on Mikasa's stomach, where she can feel them with each slow breath she takes.

"Happy birthday," Armin says against her collarbone, quiet as the daylight creeping into the room. She feels Eren nod his agreement at the base of her neck, his hair tickling her skin.

They don't say anymore, they don't need to. They do enough for her by remembering who she was before their lives changed. Mikasa wants to gather them closer, to pull them both into her heart where she can keep them safe, where they've already taken root.

Her sense of family is growing, but it always comes back to them.

She falls asleep feeling older than sixteen.


End file.
